Bloodlines
by WHS72
Summary: After an attempt on the life of Carmelita's father, Inspector Fox and the gang must delve into an Interpol secret that was never meant to be discovered, and pay the price that comes with its rebirth. What lengths will Carmelita go to find her father's attacker? Who can be trusted as a friend? Who will be suspected of being an enemy? A/N: Second upload, first had formatting problems
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I'm back again, hopefully for good this time. Due to trouble with my computer I'm having to upload from my phone. It actually makes it easier with the C+P function :P. But my main focus on this first note is to explain why my stories have kinda fallen through, namely resulting from my lack of experience and little confidence in my own writing. What my stories evolved into and my old writing style left me feeling scared of publishing anything. I appreciate the support I did receive, and I hope to finally publish a story that I can be proud of. With that, I'll leave you to it. :D P.S.- This is actually the second time I uploaded this chapter, revisions were needed as the format was all wonky.**

"Are you a God fearing kind of man Rodrigo?"

In his whole life, Rodrigo Montoya Fox had never truly felt he was in a hopeless situation until now. The query was enough to draw a stir from the barely conscious fox, and he tried to mumble a response through his swelling mouth and broken jaw. The figure stooped in front of him, and Rodrigo spat a short spray of blood in defiance. This act was rewarded with the sharp crack of a baseball bat on his arm, which further broke the already fragmented bones. Stars danced on the edge of his vision as the burning pain shot up his shoulder through the rest of his body. The pain was enough to cause him to black out momentarily, and he felt his head be forcibly pushed back as a putrid liquid was forced down his throat. His eyes shot open at the taste of the concoction, and he convulsed and spat to remove the liquid that was making its way through his mouth. After a short fit of coughs, he looked up at the figure again.

"I've never been given a reason to fear God, nor should I." The figure chuckled and paced a clockwise circle around the chair Fox was strapped to, taking his time as Rodrigo's breathing steadied again. As he completed the rotation, the figure crouched down and met Rodrigo's bloodshot eyes with a pair of metallic blue orbs. The sight was enough to cause a shiver to go down Rodrigo's spine.

"Why did you do it? After all we accomplished together? Why Fernando?" The figure smirked and drew a knife from his coat pocket, twirling it casually in his hands before ramming it down through Rodrigo's wrist. A bright spray of blood shot out as the steel blade pierced all the way through flesh and bone before solidifying itself in the wood of the chair. Fernando released the knife and stepped away as blood continued to flow from the wound, his body language expressing anger with a clawed finger pointing at the bound Fox.

"Because of what you did! Because of what more we could have accomplished! All the work, the hours, the research, all of it! You threw it away to keep your bosses happy! You tarnished your name to me, M, and Cooper! Why? Because you single-handedly destroyed my life's work to keep your job. A paycheck, benefits... At the cost of revolutionizing modern medicine!" Fernando's rant had hit home with Rodrigo, and he was angered by the accusations being made.

"It's not like I had a fucking choice! I was trying to provide for my family, to have a life! And don't fool yourself Fernando. Modern medicine? I saw the schematics! I knew your plans! That's why I scrapped the project!" Fernando let loose a barrage of punches on Fox, hitting one after another on the wounded man's face and body. By the time he had finished, Rodrigo was on the verge of blacking out again. He could only see out of one eye now, as the other began to swell shut. A steady drip of blood now flowed from his mouth, down his chin, and onto his shirt. His breathing was now a barely audible wheeze, like the sound of air being blown into a paper bag. Had it not been for the chair he was bound to, he would have collapsed long before now under the heaving motions that his lungs were making. Fernando roughly lifted his head with a bloodied hand and stared into his one eye, speaking in between short, frustrated breaths.

"You can't stop me this time." He pulled out a cell phone from his other coat pocket and kneeled down beside Rodrigo, adjusting the device so that they could both see the screen. He began to scroll through the photos on the phone, all taken from a distance and of poor quality. Despite most pictures being unrecognizable, he stopped on the last one of the set, allowing Rodrigo to see it. Even though the photo was fuzzy, the long blue hair was unmistakable. Rodrigo immediately shifted in the chair, pulling with all his strength to break free from the restraints. The reaction was apparently what Fernando was looking for as he wrapped a hand around Fox's shoulder.

"I think it's time I pay your daughter a visit." He could see the rage building in the eyes of Rodrigo, as desperation turned to pure hatred. His voice was frail but absolute as he spoke through broken teeth.

"Leave her out of this! This is between you and me!" The jaguar threw back his head in a short laugh as he repositioned himself in front of the dying Fox.

"You're right, but what you did to me can't be repaid in blood. _Your_ blood anyways. After that, I will finally show the world what I'm capable of..." Fernando turned back to Fox.

"What _we_ could have been capable of." Rodrigo's face was still a defiant grimace, but tears were visibly running down his face.

"You're a fucking psychopath, and your creation won't fare any better than M. He's currently sitting at the bottom of his island, with the Cooper vault on top of him." Fernando scoffed and shook his head.

"However much of a genius M was, his works could only be considered abominations, bastard children to science. He was blinded by greed, and it cost him in the end. I asked if you are a God fearing man because I have harnessed the power of God, the ability to create and give life." Fernando, despite the grave nature of the situation, seemed almost giddy talking about his own accomplishments. Rodrigo scoffed.

"I won't beg to satisfy your vain affection for yourself as a god. You're blinded by ambition."

"Ambition that you so rigorously drilled into me back in Barcelona. Do you not see Rodrigo? My work will change the world, and to hinder such a revolution is simply an act of foolish pride."

"By causing the genocide of millions of people? By having rivers of blood flow through every country on the globe?"

"Wasn't it you that told me that not everyone is as sweet and innocent as your daughter? As your family?" Rodrigo looked up with blood now flowing from his swollen eye.

"The ends justify the means? Bring the world to the brink of global catastrophe just to show off your genius? Do you honestly believe any of this will work?"

"Once the world sees me for what I am truly capable of, no one will challenge me. I have all the of the pieces on the board..." He turned to look out the bedroom window to the skyline of Paris.

"It's just a matter of when I decide to begin my turn."

"So that's it then? I'm the last pawn on the board?" Fernando laughed wholeheartedly and paced back to the center of the room.

"There would have been three, and let me assure you..." The jaguar leaned in closer to the Fox's face. "I took great pleasure in telling the bird where the Coopers were. A favor, so to speak." The thought of his friend being ripped apart by Clockwerk was too much for Rodrigo to bear, and the tears returned in a steady flow.

"You're the devil Fernando." The jaguar pulled a small lighter from his coat and lit the cigarette that was in his pursed lips and blew a huff of smoke into Rodrigo's face.

"No, but you'll be seeing him very soon. Goodbye my friend." Fernando motioned to the two men who had occupied the room the entire time and they marched back out the front door. Fernando stopped just short of the cold, Parisian blast of air and stared at the fox with a wicked grin plastered across his features.

"And Rodrigo..." The wounded fox looked up from his hunched position.

"Enjoy the fireworks." With that, Fernando tossed the cigarette to the entry hall floor, causing a wall of flames to shoot from the ground. The jaguar's now mirage like image disappeared from the doorway, and that's when the reality of the situation hit Fox. The liquid they had poured down his throat was gasoline, and they had apparently left some in the house to burn with him. The flames were now licking at the blood soaked carpet that occupied the living room, buying Rodrigo enough time to think. The jaguar's prior actions gave him his only current means of escape.

"The window..." Using the last bit of strength he possessed, Rodrigo was able to shift the chair back and forth to create a rocking motion, a motion that allowed him to move towards the window gradually. The acrid smoke of the fire filled his lungs as the flames had begun to consume the carpet, quickly closing the gap to where his chair had been. Upon reaching the window, his plan hit a standstill. He hadn't figured a way to get out of the room, and the window was 3 floors above the street. The heat of the the flames licking at his back was enough to stir desperation from Rodrigo. He rocked forward and slammed his head into the window, but only yielded a slight cracking sound. Blood flowed from the cuts in his forehead that were reopened after the impact with the glass. He tried again, with the same result as before. He could see flames at the edge of his peripherals, and his back felt like the chair had already caught fire. Exhaustion and the fumes of the smoke gave Rodrigo one last push, and he slammed his head into the window again and again. His thoughts were not troubled by Fernando of Carmelita, only survival. The window finally shattered and he went tumbling onto the balcony and over the edge. His last conscious thought was the feeling of free fall as he approached the street below. He never felt the impact, as his body had now become cold and the brilliant blaze behind him had faded into a stark, white landscape.

**A/N: Well that got kind of intense... So who is Fernando? Why would he want Fox dead? What was this "project" they were working on? What will happen to Carmelita? When will these ambiguous and vague questions stop? As I said before, I will devote my efforts to shaping this story into my vision. Expect an update soon, and y'all take care!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, it's been a while! Sorry for the long wait, classes and midterms have both been occupying the majority of my time, as well as a couple of group projects and out of town visits. But enough excuses, here's chapter 2!**

Paris always seemed like a ghost town this time of year. The usually crowded streets bustling with tourists and residents were now empty, blanketed by a thick sheet of snow from the previous morning. Frosty shop windows mocked those unfortunate enough to deal with the cold, tempting them with the prospect of a warm bed and a fire. Those fortunate enough were oblivious to the tundra-like atmosphere right outside their homes, nestled in their blankets of warmth and security. Inspector Carmelita Fox had been asleep in her apartment that night when her cell phone rang. She shot upright in the kitchen chair she had drifted off in, a plethora of documents and folders spread across the table in front of her like some unruly battle to hold her attention. She glanced over to see the dull green digits on her oven read a quarter past three. She made a motion to carry herself to her bedroom when she heard the phone a second time, the light vibrations causing her car keys to chime in tune on the coffee table. Stumbling across the carpet on what felt like stilts, she grabbed for the device and roughly pressed it against her ear.

"Sí?" There was a pause on the other end before someone spoke.

"Carmelita?" It was Amber Volk, the local Constable at the Interpol Office in Paris and her current partner. The two had been working cases for the past year under Barkley. Carmelita had initially expressed doubts due to past performances with her last two partners, but Volk's reputation of a fast riser in the ranks soon held weight in Paris, and she was now considered one of the top agents in this region.

"Do you know what time it is?" Carmelita replied bluntly, annoyed at the idea of being denied a hot shower and clean sheets.

"I know, but..." Amber sounded nervous, slightly on edge. Carmelita picked up on the hesitation almost immediately.

"What's wrong?" She hesitated again before speaking in defeat.

"It's your dad." Those three words had been enough for Carmelita to throw on a pair of boots, shorts, a tank top, and her jacket and be down to her garage within minutes, taking the stairs two at a time. The metal door of the building's garage moaned as it parted the snow that had built up in front of the cave-like entrance, but she floored the gas on her old Ferrari as soon as the dank, humid darkness gave way to a landscape blanketed by glowing frost. The tires of the car squealed as they struggled to grip the icy surface, but caught traction and caused Carmelita to be pushed back into her seat. She thought about her father as she weaved back and forth through twisting streets with a white-knuckle grip on the wheel, wondering how something like this could happen. She knew that him coming back had been a bad idea, after the career that he had led. The only reason he had moved back to Paris after his retirement was that he was suffering from what most would call being stir crazy. Le Paradox's threat to the city and the rather lackluster response by Interpol officials did little to convince Rodrigo that Interpol was well off, as well as the rising frequency of attacks on this scale growing. Rodrigo had fought his way up the chain enough to know that the people in charge would be willing to prevent a crisis like that ever happening again. In order to fix this problem, Interpol signed him on as an advisor for case management and crime prevention within the Paris office under Barkley. With little results after six months, he pitched a solution that he had orchestrated over the past few weeks with the aid of friends he had met over the years. He had developed the concept of a task force to deal with these larger threats that would allow regular field agents to continue on investigations while the situation was dealt with. He called it the "Interpol Criminal Activities Research and Suppression Divison." While Carmelita had been wary of an international, militarized police force, Interpol picked up on the idea and ran with it, placing Rodrigo Fox in charge of the now dubbed ICARUS Group as it's Director of Operations. In the past two years, the division had eliminated large-scale crime in Western Europe with frightening effectiveness, and had become recognized around the world as an elite counter-criminal and counter-terrorism unit. Her father had initially turned down the responsibility of running the group, but took the director position with some coaxing by Barkley and others. Now, that same director was struggling to stay alive in the ICU. Amber had given the address of the hospital to Carmelita as she had left. A normal trip from her apartment to the hospital would usually take about thirty minutes. She managed the drive in twelve, swerving to the curb and running to the doors at a dead sprint. The smell of sanitized floors hit her nose as she burst into the main foyer of the hospital ward, making a chill run up her spine. The stark, bare bulbs of a standing lamp illuminated the waiting room, casting feint shadows that danced with the three-dozen people occupying the rows upon rows of chairs. Most of the present individuals were Interpol agents or executives, a testament to the respect Rodrigo had commanded over the years. Barkley was the first to approach her.

"How are you Carm?" She ignored his query flatly, gripping his wrists with some force.

"Where is he?" Barkley tried to wrap one arm around her shoulder but she pulled away from him.

"Now Carm, you need to understand..."

"Where is he"? She demanded an answer again, her ears now pinned back against her head and her speech replicating that of a snarl. Barkley waved his arm toward the closed Intensive Care ward at the other end of the room. Her steps were now frantic as she threw open the doors, her eyes greeted by a host of medical personal that tried to push her away.

"Por favor! Please, it's my father!" The two wards currently holding her back eyed each other before releasing their grasp, allowing her to pass into the dimly lit room. That sanitized smell was even stronger in this tight space, but she saw what she assumed to be her father lying on a bed wrapped in more bandages than clothing. His breathing was raspy but steady, and his heart monitor chimed in a rhythmic tone. From what she could see he was missing the better part of his right ear, the rough tear covered by white gauze that was already turning red. Both of his hands were taped and his one arm was already set in a cast, angled over his chest almost lazily. Layers of gauze, wrapping, and bandages covered his chest, while his lower half was covered in a stark white bed sheet. The chart at the end of his bed described his legs as stable, despite have suffering multiple fractures in both. She sat there for a few minutes with his hand in hers, listening to the steady pace of his gasps for air.

"He won't be awake for some time, the medication has taken affect." Carmelita's head shot up to see a small doctor peering into the room, hesitant to barge in on her.

"What happened?" The guinea pig shuffled into the room and withdrew the clipboard at the foot of the bed. He pensively looked the papers up and down before reading it to her.

"Official police report hasn't come through yet, but he suffered minor cranial bleeding from the fall out of his window, a fractured radius and ulna, wrist, and shoulder, two broken tibias, minor internal bleeding with a collapsed lung and severe facial trauma. It's really a miracle that he's in the shape that he's in." She gripped his hand tighter at that sentence, gently rubbing his palm with her thumb. The doctor quickly exited and Carmelita sat there for what felt like hours until a knock came from the doorframe. It was Barkley.

"How are you holding up?" She didn't even look up as tears welled in her eyes.

"I'll live, but do you know what happened? Who did this?" Barkley coughed and waved his phone in her direction.

"That's actually what I was coming to tell you. Cross has got some of his guys working on it, and that he wants to see you. I think it's the cafe just around the corner." She again stood still, simply exchanging looks between Barkley and her father. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Go, we'll keep an eye on him; 24 hour security until we figure out what we're dealing with." Gripping his hand one last time she walked out of the room slowly with Barkley, shutting the door as two agents wielding H&K UMP's posted themselves at the entrance. She walked outside in almost a daze; Amber had already gone and she could see the light from the cafe sign glimmering in the snowy street; it was the only place open at this hour and was frequented by those heading home from the various bars also scattered about. The light scent of coffee drifted from the golden windows as she approached in the frigid air, watching a few figures pass back and forth inside. A blast of warm air hit her face as she opened the door, quickly stepping inside and shrugging off the snow on her jacket. The scene inside was that reminiscent of a coffeehouse straight out of an independent French film. A thin blanket of smoke danced around the ornate bulbs hanging over the scattered tables, occupied by maybe half a dozen customers. At the table to her left sat a lone, blanketed timberwolf, standing as she walked forward and embracing her in a hug. If Rodrigo Fox was the brains behind ICARUS, Matthew Cross could be considered it's muscle. Cross was an imposing figure to most; an athletic, muscular build covered in a charcoal grey coat of fur, with a short, black beard and coal black hair. A pair of emerald green eyes sat in behind a sharp, defined face that bore scars that danced diagonally from the bridge of his nose, across his eye, and down his cheek. The beard always made him look older, but the wolf was more appropriately in his late twenties, with thirty knocking on the door any day now. He was the current field commander of ICARUS, with a decorated career of military and private contracting service behind him. He motioned for her to sit down, a steaming cup of coffee already waiting for her.

"How are you Carm?" He was English by nature, but his accent had become somewhat construed after a short residence in South Africa, mixing his Berkshire accent with that of what you would hear in Johannesburg.

"I'm-I'm fine. I just- I'm not really processing this right now." He gripped her hand and lowered his head, retrieving his phone from his pocket and placing it on the table. He seemed hesitant of speaking at first.

"I'd like to say I brought you here for consolation, but there's more to it than that. My boys are looking into who did this to the old man; all we know for sure is that they buggered off real quick once they finished." He pushed the phone towards her, the screen showing a picture of the burnt out frame of what used to be her father's apartment. She could also see other ICARUS agents sifting through parts of the wreckage.

"Have they found anything?" The wolf withdrew the phone and put it back into his coat, glancing around the cafe.

"In due time. But first, I think you'd like to meet the chaps who found Rodrigo." As if on cue, the bell on the front door chimed as it swung open. She turned and, despite the heavy amount of clothing the two wore, she recognized those horn-rimmed glasses anywhere.

"Bentley!?"

**A/N: So what could Bentley have to do with Rodrigo? Expect to see some of your favorite characters make a few cameo appearances, it's the least I could do. ;) Again, sorry for the long wait; hopefully the next chapter gets out sooner.**

**Songs I'm jamming to this chapter:**

**I Walk Alone - Saliva**

**Breathing - Yellowcard**

**All on Me - Case & Point**

**King of Kings - Motörhead**


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